The Memoirs of Istaborn Tiberfoot
by BeholdtheMan
Summary: For hundreds of years these memoirs have been considered lost. That was until a lady named Mrs. Hillen found the original edition in her attic. Thememoirs detail the life and times of Hogwarts Headmaster Istaborn Tiberfoot, who was headmaster from 1385 to 1491. T\\
1. Introduction

Istaborn Tiberfoot was a Hogwarts headmaster, who was the first person to travel through the Forbidden Forest, he also made a potion to cure several poisons.  
Born in 1343 to Belinda and Aldon Tiberfoot. He was raised in the small wizard village of Stathford, a village nestled in a hidden valley far from any muggle civilization. Its exact location was unknown.  
His parents wanted they're child to do much in his life, so they pushed him to do great things (as he was there only child). Ever since he could walk, Istaborn loved to explore. He was later quoted with saying "I was so fond of exploring, that I once ran off while my mother was walking me around the village. She chased me, but I somehow managed to end up several blocks away from her. Little did I know this was the first time I ever showed magic abilities."  
When he turned 11 in 1354 he received his Hogwarts acceptance letter, and after getting his things, was off to Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. He was put into the Gryffindor house  
In his first year he proved to be a very good student, excelling in all subjects. But what alluded him the most was the Dark (or forbidden) Forest. Being adventurous and very fond of exploring, he found himself pondering just what was in that forest and were it went.  
When the students went to the forest to learn, he was always very excited to learn about plants and creatures that lived there. He also, when he could get away with it, explored the school.  
When he got his first broom from his parents at home for Christmas in his second year he was overjoyed. He had been taught that first year how to fly, and he proved good at it. He finished off his first year with great strength only ever losing 5 house points. In his third year he tried-out for the quidditch team and made it in. He got the spot of seeker. He was a skilled player and good with a broom. His fourth and fifth year were fairly the same as his first three. He played quidditch won a championship and was a very good and smart student.  
In his sixth year he became the Gryiffondor prefect. But the forbidden forest still alluded him, it was just sitting there waiting to be explored. And several times he wandered into the dark forest at night with only a wand in hand. He showed true bravery doing a thing like that. He was surprisingly never caught leaving at night. How he did it, is still a mystery to this day.  
He graduated from Hogwarts and began living isolated in the woods for twenty years. He lived off herbs and fruit, and hunted animals for meat. He kept a garden and he always excepted wizard visitors. In his hermit like experience, he found a plant that cured multiple poisons if made into a potion.  
One day he decided he should go to Hogwarts and attempt to travel through the forbidden forest. He sent a letter to the headmaster letting him know. The headmaster accepted his proposal. And Istaborn set out on his journey through the Forbidden Forest.  
It took an estimated year to complete this feat. Though he spent a lot of time there, living, and exploring. He had no intention of just going in and then going out. Istaborn returned to Hogwarts in 1383 to tell them of his conquest of the Forbidden Forest. He returned to Hogwarts and in light of his achievement, and the death of the previous headmaster, he was appointed deputy headmaster. He became the Herboligy teacher until only a school year later the next headmaster died. Istaborn then became the headmaster of Hogwarts in 1385.  
He proved a good headmaster, keeping the school in order, getting things done, and the typical headmaster what not. Even though he was a grown man he was known to sometimes join the first years in flying lessons and show them what he had.  
An important thing he did was donate money to half-blood children. So they could pay for school supplies. He was head master for 106 years before he died at the ripe old age of 148 (extremely old for muggles but not uncommon for magic folk) in the year 1491. He died after accidentally consuming a poisonous mushroom. After that he was succeeded by his then deputy headmaster Edessa Skandenberg. He wrote a book called The Memoirs of Istaborn Tiberfoot. There are, to this day, no known surviving copies.

QUOTES  
"I showed no fear through my school days, and neither should you. You all have great potential and I believe you will do great,"- His beginning of the year speech in 1463

"Never eat poisonous mushrooms.," -his last words 1491

"You must succeed through trial and error, it may be hard but never give up.,"- Beginning of the year speech 1450

"Well this is fancy, very fancy."  
-Upon seeing Diagon Alley 1490

This excerpt is from Hogwarts: The History of Headmasters  
copyright Idella Breden 1976 All rights reserved


	2. Daily Prophet News Clipping

Just yesterday afternoon Mrs. Rolda  
Hillen was cleaning out her attic when she found the only known copy of Istaborn Tiberfoots Memoirs. It had ceased being printed around 1510. Until today there were no copies. Mrs. Hillen described how she discovered it.  
"I was watching my attic clean itself, and I noticed a box full of old books. In that box was a book with a dark blue leather binding and gold lettering that spelled out 'The Memoirs of Istaborn Tiberfoot'. I remembered hearing that the book was considered lost. I grabbed it and, by using the floo network, I took it to Flourish and Blotts. They were overjoyed to see a copy of the book. I let them put it in there vault for safe keeping. Using a spell, they began making copies of it. And they believe it was the original book I had, and not just a copy."  
Mrs. Hillen is a Tiberfoot, though her late husband Roalf was a Hillen. She believes that it must have been passed down from generation to generation, and she just didn't know she had it. Flourish and Blotts says they are in fact going to begin selling copies of the book again.  
The book has never before read stories about Istaborn. It also gives hints to where the village of Stathford was located when it existed. But its location is still somewhat a mystery. The book was believed to be finished around 1490.  
How do we know that he had a memoirs? Well in the book Hogwarts Today (1500) it talks about Istaborn Tiberfoot. It tells how he was the first headmaster to write a memoirs. It also quotes it:  
"Istaborn told his life story in his memoirs. He explained what life was like as headmaster 'Hogwarts headmasters don't have it easy. You are very busy. Once I was awake for two days straight catching up on things that happened over the holidays' ".  
We also gathered that it was out of production after 1510, as according to records in Flourish and Blotts. Those records also list it being on sale there. Furthermore they also gave the name that Hogwarts Today failed to mention.  
(Daily Prophet excerpt from January 16, 2017 issue)


	3. Reprinter's Note

What you are about to read are the original memoirs of Istaborn Tiberfoot, headmaster, herbology teacher, and adventurer. The previous excerpts were not originally part of the book, rather added in to give a background understanding of this man and book. The only modification to the text was a translation from Middle English to Modern English. This book gives the exact date in which he began and finished his memoirs. He wrote them from 1483 to 1490. We would like to thank Mrs. Hillen for finding the only known, and original edition of this book. And we would also like to thank Istaborn Tiberfoot for writing his life and times down for future generations to read.  
\- Edward Flourish and Roger Blotts


	4. Introduction (1483)

p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;"I was sitting in my office just yesterday, looking over a few reports on some rather naughty students who thought it funny to blow up a pumpkin outside the school. It caused a rather nasty mess. The explosion hit a couple first years who were enjoying there weekend off. It did not take long to clean up, but I had Professor Pottsworth take the three to the dungeon for several hours. While reading over the reports, I began to think of my childhood and adulthood, and how many stories I could tell. A thought crossed my mind, and I noticed how I am beginning to feel like I am reaching the end of my life, and how I should write these stories all down for future generations to read about. So thats what I began to do in my spare time. With that, I hope you enjoy reading these stories as much as I enjoyed living style="box-sizing: border-box;" /- Istaborn Tiberfoot, 1483/p 


	5. Chapter 1

p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" I was born into this world in 1343 in a small village on the River Severn called Stathford. My upbringing was one of medium income, neither poor nor rich. My father, Aldon, worked the local mill in the village. Of course, we were magic users, so work was not hard. Nonetheless, my father would go to work at Seven each morning and go about his job. He would stay till Six in the evening before returning home. As for my mother, Belinda, she stayed around the house and did chores, and took care of style="box-sizing: border-box;" / My home was a small, thatched roof house. It had three rooms in it. The biggest room was the room where our table, fireplace, and chairs sat. Our table was made of oak wood. The fireplace was always burning, and cooking pots were often hanging over it. As for our chairs, they were simply table chairs that we would move to face the fire when needed. The other two rooms were bedrooms, one for my parents, and one for me. They were built into the opposite wall from the entrance. My room had a straw bed, and a dresser. The same went for my parents, though their bed was bigger to accommodate the both of them. Over the fireplace in the main room was a wand that had been used by one of my ancestors, who's name I have since forgotten. The floor of the house was made of wood, which was a luxury in town, as most simply had dirt floors. It was not much, but we made style="box-sizing: border-box;" / My mother was, as my father often called her "a beautiful woman." She was skinny, and had a petite figure. She had long, auburn hair that stretched down to her lower back that was always very smooth. Her skin was a milky pale, and she had freckles on her cheeks and across her face. Her eyes were a vibrant blue, and could pierce threw you when you did wrong. My father was a medium sized man, with some good muscle built on him. He had blonde hair that went down to his shoulders, and was slightly darker than my mother. His face was very clean, and it always bore a smile. My mother was the more serious one, while my father often was a jester. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /My family's lineage in Stathford had been one that dates back to the village founding in 1206. My ancestors came with Gralice Stathford, the founder of the village, along with several other families to start a Magic only community. We had always owned the mill in Stathford, Nevas Tiberfoot had been the one to build it, and passed the business down from one generation to the next. Such was the ways of all businesses in Stathford. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Stathford was situated in a valley a few miles from the River Severn. In those days, and most likely still, the valley was surrounded by forests on all sides. Only one road led in and out of the village, and it was not often traveled. If it was, it was utilized by travelers heading to Arthur's Borough, the closest town. Arthur's Borough had everything Stathford did not. Wizarding shops, a bigger, nicer town center, and more appeal in general. The Stathford Village Guild was often shackled by the idea that we should work to do as they do. Any improvement to Stathford was based off what Arthur's Borough was style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Our village itself was small. The town center was a large dirt clearing in the town surrounded by shops. Past these shops several roads led off in different directions leading to houses. All the roads in the town connected to the town center. At the head of the town center was the Stathford Guildhall, this is where the head figures of the village would meet and make decisions on what should be done in the community. Along the center were also shops. One was the Cheeky Troll, a tavern where much debauchery occurred. Next to it was the black smith. Also along the center was a butcher, a baker, and an Alchemy Shop. In those days wizarding shops were much less prevalent than they are now. We mostly had the same things muggles did. Of course our methods of obtaining these things were drastically style="box-sizing: border-box;" / Among the other businesses run in the village, we had a potter, who's shop was an addition to the house the potter resided in, a brewer, who provided alcohol for the tavern, a weaver, and of course the mill. Out past the houses down a small dirt road in an open field, there was the quidditch field where the local team played and practiced. The field was open and lush green, and at each end were three trees hexed so that their branches formed a circle. Across the road from the field was the Stathford Cemetery. The cemetery was of medium size, but activity there was not common. The cemetery's position was also a helpful one at times. On occasion a player would succumb to his injuries in a game and they would simply take him across the road for style="box-sizing: border-box;" /My mother gave birth to me on the floor of our house at the age of 18. I had always been told by my parents that when I was born I was an extremely calm babe. Why, I do not know. I was born with brown hair like my mothers, and blue eyes. My first memory of life was my first attempt of adventuring. I was three years of age at that time, and my mother had allowed me to go out in the village. She stayed close behind though, watching me closely. Unfortunately my young mind began to wander, and I found myself attempting to roam out of my mother's site. I decided to take off running toward the tree line. My mother noticed this quickly and began to chase after me. Unfortunately for her, I somehow managed to get myself on the other side of the village. I was running towards the tree line, and the next thing I knew I was next to a house. I did not know this at the time, but this was the first time I had shown magical abilities. My mother caught up to me eventually, and was so proud of me showing magical abilities that no punishment was handed down for my naughtiness. She told my father when he arrived home of my excursion, and he too was style="box-sizing: border-box;" / In those days the village of Stathford was small enough that there were not a lot of children in town. If I can recall correctly, there were only ten or eleven children in all, most of which moved out of the village when they became of age. Included in that group were my close companions Ardon and Breven. Two boys who were one and two years my seniors style="box-sizing: border-box;" / Ardon and Breven Stepp were brothers, but often got along together. Ardon had very short brown hair, while his brother Breven had blonde hair that went down past his eyes. Both were very skinny. Their family was also one of the first to move to the village. My mother and their mother, Elizaomilda, would often get together. Elizaomilda would always bring Ardon and Breven with her, and we naturally became friends over time. Unfortunately, at first they shunned me, as children are wont to do at that age. I can recall the first time we were in each other's presence they were in the dirt road that ran past our house playing. Our parents were inside, occasionally checking on us. I wanted to join in on the fun, and headed in their direction. I cannot recall what game they were playing, but I wanted to join. As I got up to them, they ceased playing and gave me a stern look. Ardon said "You cannot join us!" I was very upset by this and asked why. Breven replied "Because this game is for older children. Your too young!" br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / I became very upset and in a fit of rage I somehow managed to make a small pebble levitate in the air and hit Ardon in the chest. Both parents saw this and rushed out to grab their children. Ardon was not hurt, but he made quite the scene about it. He balled and balled, but even his mother knew this was forced, and eventually told him to "Pipe down". After this incident they returned back to their home up the road from us, and my mother and I were left. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / It was now my turn to get scolded. "Now Istaborn," she began. "You cannot go and hurt people like that. It is wrong. Unfortunately for a child your age magical accidents like that are common, therefore I understand you are not at fault. That being said, you must try your best not to make that mistake again!" This was a rather tame scolding. My mother was a rather understanding woman. It must be noted that my mother only showed compassion to me, my father, and Elizaomilda (who she had known since the age of 11). In the presence of others she was quiet, and style="box-sizing: border-box;" / The reason this was is because, at the age of 20, her sister, and close friend, had left the family without saying goodbye or even giving a location as to where she was going. My mother was only 17 at the time, and took it very hard. It was only a week before my mother and father were married. She never truly recovered from that, and for the rest of her life, lived in a state of regret and sadness. As sad as it is to say this looking back, it was not something I could do anything style="box-sizing: border-box;" /I suppose the next event that I can remember happening in my life was the day my father brought home a toy broom for me from London. In those days I was a stout young lad. I had long brown hair that was nearly as long as my father's. I was four at the time. Every other week my father would head to London and purchase odd wizarding trinkets. I have been told that he once brought home a jar of goblin eyes. They apparently had healing powers, but my mother wanted none of that in her house, so she gave them to the local Alchemist. On another occasion he brought home a large cauldron full of magical orbs that rolled around on their own. They all rolled out onto the floor, and my mother spent at least an hour getting all of them picked up (they would roll away from her). So when he brought the broom home for me, something was bound to go style="box-sizing: border-box;" / My father's reasoning for bringing the broom home was because I had behaved well as of late, and he decided to reward me. The broom was a sturdy, brown, standard broom. Not much description needed. So he let me take it outside and ride it around. Toy brooms did not get off the ground as high as normal ones. Toy brooms got up two or three feet, and would not go any higher. Nonetheless it was still quite a treat for me. So I hopped on it and the broom rose up. I did not know how to get it to move forward, so I decided to lean forward and see what occurred. Lo and behold I started moving in the direction I wanted. Before long I was zooming around our house (the broom didn't go very fast) and out into the streets. Passing people watched as I flew around, which only made me want to show off more. So my young mind wandered to the forest that circled the village. Our house was at the edge of town, and so the woods were never far off. So I changed directions from my house to the tree line that was up a hill slightly. I was too focused on how neat I looked that as I reached the tree line, my broom hit a branch and flew out from under me, causing me to fly into the woods and land face first on the ground. I was not hurt, asides from my face being burned from the friction off the ground. The group of bystanders watching rushed over to make sure I was style="box-sizing: border-box;" / Around five years of age, my parents had decided that it was time for me to learn about Hogwarts and magic. On certain days we would sit by the fire place in our small, three room house and I would listen to my mother and father spin webs of tales that they had experienced or heard themselves from their parents or grandparents. The oldest of which was a story that dated back before Hogwarts in 956. In the Welsh village of Fryncaerwyn (Hill of Caerwyn in Welsh) my ancestor Aneirin and his future wife Eilwen attended school in a small shack by a single witch named Gaenor. Lessons were less informative in those days, and most of the students just figured it out by trial and error. Children often learned from their parents though, as school were not common before Hogwarts was founded. These stories always held my youthful mind, though later in life I discovered that some of the stories told to me were only based on hearsay rather than fact. Nonetheless, I enjoyed them. Magic was truly beginning to become part of me in my mind. These lessons would spur my imagination and Ardon and Breven and I would run around the streets playing Wizards. We would duel with each other, and get in the way of the older folk. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / Between five and eight there is little to talk of. I would often spend my days playing with Ardon and Breven, or sneaking around town myself exploring. Each year there was the Stathford Fair that was always great fun, but it has little relevance here. Though at the age of eight another important event occurred in my life. By this time I was a skinny, decently sized young lad who ever so resembled my father. My hair was now a darker brown that was still down to my shoulders. My skin was somewhat pale, but not as much as my mother's. On this day my father came home from his job at the mill. As he walked in he said "Istaborn, how about I take you to a quidditch game?" I had recently taken an interest in quidditch. I had read several books on the matter, and would watch what I could see of the games from my yard. Unfortunately I could not see much because houses and trees blocked the way. My parents had never taken me before due to them not thinking me to be quite ready. So when my father offered to take me I was quite quick to style="box-sizing: border-box;" /In Stathford, the Quidditch team consisted of men who played part time. The team members would work their hours, and then go to practice from work. This was common for all quidditch teams in those days. As of late though it seems there are more and more full time players in Quidditch. Our team was the Stathford Sparrows, and our uniforms were alternating light blue and scarlet. The team was managed by a Welsh man with the name of Aled ap Carwyn. Aled was a large, strong lad, with long red hair and a red beard. Aled decided to use the sparrow as our mascot when the team was formed in 1302, as it was his favorite animal. He was one of short temper, and on one recorded case in 1322, beat a player of Puddlemere United after the game for hurling insults at one of his players. At any number of games you could hear him swear at his and the other team's players in his Native Welsh. He did this often though, and it was known all over the village not to get on his bad side. He was also not the most morally correct fellow. He could often be found in The Cheeky Troll, or coming out of any number of maids' houses. It is safe to say our team was not run by the greatest man ever. Nonetheless, he was a great manager. He led the team to several undefeated seasons and several Britannic Cup wins. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /That Saturday, my father took me to the match. My mother stayed home, saying she did not want to take part in any "barbaric sport such as that". We walked up the main road through Stathford to get to the quidditch field. Along the way my father conversed with some of his friends who were also going to the game. They talked of things like the odds of the team winning, how much I looked like him, and work. When we arrived the two stands were already nearly full of people. We sat on the side closest to the road, while the opposing team (on this day the Arthur's Borough Badgers) had the side farther from the road. The Arthur's Borough team wore yellow and black striped uniforms. Each team was already huddled together talking when we took our seats. This game was particularly important to Stathford due to our rivalry with Arthur's Borough. My father and I sat near the top of the stand as to see the action better. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /From where we sat, I began to look out along the field and immediately noticed Aled among the blue and scarlet uniforms. He was wearing a blue tunic with an inscription on it that read "Dim Arthur i'ch helpu nawr" which in Welsh means "No Arthur to help you now." A reference to the fact that the town was named after King Arthur. Several minutes later an old man in dark green robes and a large green cone hat walked slowly onto the field. He was holding a chest. This man was none other than the town's founder Gralice Stathford. Gralice always attended every Quidditch game in town, and because of his high standing locally, also started each one, and refereed. Gralice stopped in the middle of the field at the central circle, and motioned for each team to come and form up on either side of him. Once they had done so, Gralice began to speak. "Gentlemen! I want a clean game today. Now let us go over a few ground rules before it starts. I do not want either team to hurl insults, nor shall there be any unnecessary violence other than the average from a quidditch game. Once the game is over, no matter the outcome, thank the other team for playing well. That will be all! Now gentlemen, Mount your brooms!" Both teams began to mount their brooms. At the same time the viewing stand we were sitting on began to float upward. I began to panic when seeing this, but my father tapped my shoulder and said "Don't worry, this is normal."br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Stathford had pulled a whistle out of his pocket, and after waiting several seconds, blew it. Up to the air went fifteen brooms, and the game had style="box-sizing: border-box;" / At the beginning, it was very close. Darius Palith, a player on our team, scored the first points for the team when he managed to shake off the two bludgers (one of which grazed his clothing) and score with the quaffle. As the game went on, Arthur's Borough began to get ahead, much to the distaste of the fans. Aled was taken off the field after he enchanted a teapot that he had brought with him to attack the the opponent's seeker. After about two hours of game, with a twelve point divide between us and Arthur's Borough, our seeker, Hagen Armstrong, spotted something in the breeze and suddenly took after it in hot pursuit. The other seeker noticed this and took off after him. Hagen was faster though, and was able to catch the golden snitch, winning the game for Stathford. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / Afterwards my father and I went down and met the players. They were all very nice men, and they even had conversations with me and answered some of my questions. It was a great experience that paved the way for my interest in Quidditch down the road./p 


	6. Chapter 2

p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="7d8a91cf6e6a661046b380de02fa9492" My first quidditch match always remained with me, and fueled my enthusiasm for the sport. I began attending games regularly when they came to town, and would read about the ones played elsewhere. I was even present at the infamous Rain Game. A game that dragged on for six hours straight in the pouring rain. It was a particularly brutal game as well. Players were constantly getting injured or falling off their brooms due to strong winds and the heavy rain fall that kept pelting them. Replacements off the reserve team had to take the place of injured players, which had become so many that towards the end of the game Aled himself mounted a broom and played bludger (something he had done in his younger years for the Dolwyddelan Daggers). In the end the Sparrows came out on top against the Kenmare Kestrels by only a few style="box-sizing: border-box;" /When I got around the age of nine years old, Gralice Stathford, (the man who founded the village as mentioned in the last chapter) was hitting a rough patch of health. Gralice was a tall man of medium build. He had long, pearly white hair, and a long white beard. His eyes were light blue and he could often be seen wearing blue robes. He had just turned 198, and was beginning to show signs of it. Several weeks after his birthday he became very ill. What disease it was was never disclosed, but I can make an assumption that it was most likely Cauldron Sickness. For the uninformed Cauldron Sickness is a fatal disease that can be contracted by using unclean cauldrons. It has become less common these days since the Wizards' Council began regulating the materials Cauldrons are made of, which was part of the problem. Gralice became very weak, and feverish. His skin became pale, he could not talk well, and would vomit often. He remained bed ridden for several weeks. Throughout this time people could be spotted coming and going from his house, saying their last goodbyes. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /For three weeks, Gralice lay on his death bed before succumbing to his illness on the Twelfth of March, 1352. From several accounts I have read, he was surrounded by all the members of the guild. They had formed a circle around his bed, holding hands with each other, and the two men nearest to Gralice held his hands as he took his final breaths. When he ceased breathing and his eyes went cold, one man said aloud "He has passed," and some of the men in the room began to weep. The others stared blankly at Gralice's pale body, not wanting to cry, for that would make them look weak. By this time a considerable crowd had grown outside Gralice's house. Word had gotten around that it was time. The Guildsmen left the house in a small group, and informed the crowds that Gralice had died. Many women took to crying, while the men attempted to comfort them. I myself was not there, as my Father did not have any attachment to Gralice, neither did my style="box-sizing: border-box;" / As a matter of fact, I did not either. Gralice did not often appear in public. When he did, he had Guildsmen all around him, walking with him like he was some sort of saint as the muggles say it. Gralice kept to the Guild, and did work from home. When he went to Quidditch games, as he always did, he sat with Guildsmen on all sides of him in the viewing stand. The Guildsmen's long, flowing scarlet robes with the Stathford Guild Crest embroidered on the front, and a matching Scarlet chaperon on their heads was easily identifiable. They wore those clothes everywhere. In the streets, if you were to catch him, and ask him something, the Guildsmen would shoo you away, saying something like "Gralice is too busy to answer questions," and Gralice would ignore you. When Gralice went to the Cheeky Troll, the Guildsmen went with him. In fact, Gralice would have the tavern closed to the public, and he and the guild would be the only ones permitted in. Gralice was not the friendly man people wanted to believe he was. He ignored his community, and to my knowledge used charm to get himself elected every time by the guild. He was a great leader, but not a people's leader. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / The real issue that arose was who would replace Gralice as head of the Stathford Village Guild. Gralice had always been head of the guild since it's inception, and the town always reelected him every five years as he proved a worthy leader. Unfortunately his time on Earth was up, and someone new needed to take his position. When Gralice became ill, the guild proposed to begin the process on deciding who would take over his position. This vote failed though with 2 voting yea and 7 voting nay. The main reason behind this vote failing was mainly due to the fact that Gralice was still alive, and most still had hope he would overcome the style="box-sizing: border-box;" / Gralice did not though, so it was up to the Guild to bring someone else to the front. The Guild was run in a very unfair way, though the people of Stathford had no real idea; nor did I until my mid twenties when I began reading up more on Politics for both Wizards and muggles. Every five years a head of the guild would be elected. Gralice was the only one who ever ran though, as no one else wanted to oppose him, for fear of being ostracized or for having too much respect. The people of the town would gather at the town center on the day of the election and cast their vote on who would be put into position as head, and also who would be elected to the position of Guildsmen (Guildsmen also had five year terms). As with Gralice, most Guildsmen held the position for quite a long time, but some would be booted every once and awhile. Once the voting was done, it would be counted by the guild, and the results would be announced. As head of the Stathford Village Guild, you came up with all new laws, regulations, events, etc. Guildsmen would of course put in their ideas, but it was ultimately up to you on what got brought to the Guild to be voted on. You would bring it to the Guild Meeting at the guild hall, and a vote would be set in. The citizens never had any say in what got passed and what did not, and they were often uninformed of the happenings at the Guild until after something was past. In the event that the head should die in office, the eldest person in the Guild would conduct the law making till a new Head could be style="box-sizing: border-box;" / In his place, a man named Periton Tweed took over. He was a large, balding lad who had a face that looked more like a rat than a man. Looking back on his political run, he was a cowardly individual, and really had no right to be in office. He was voted in by the populace with a little over half the village voting yes, and the others voting no, as they believed that Periton was not the man they were looking for. And with that, the Guild had a new style="box-sizing: border-box;" / This was all sorted out a day after Gralice's death, and once this was done, funeral preparations for him began. In two days time they were prepared, and that next day his funeral was to be held in the town center, and then the casket would be carried to the cemetery where it was to be buried. And so, on that day my mother dressed me in the finest clothes I had, red robes and a chaperon my father had bought me for formal wear when he was in London. At ten o'clock in the morning, the people of Stathford began to make their way to the village center. My mother wore a blue dress, and a blue Hennin hat, and my father wore a white tunic, black pants, but no hat. As we approached the town center we saw that the center of town had been filled with two rows of long, as muggles may call them, church pews. Both rows had ten pews in it, and there was enough space in between both rows that five people could stand shoulder to shoulder and still have some wiggle room left. At the head of the town center, in front of the Guildhall, there was a lectern, and next to the lectern was a large, white casket with gold trim. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / We filed in to a pew towards the back of the left row, and watched as others filed in. Ardon, Elizaomilda, and her husband Wilbert happened to sit in front of us. Breven was off at his first year at Hogwarts. Ardon wore a blue tunic, Elizaomilda wore a pink dress and had her brown hair in a tight bun, and Wilbert wore green robes and a green pointed hat, covering up his bald head. My mother spoke to Elizaomilda while we waited for the funeral to start, and Ardon and I talked about Quidditch while we waited. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / After several minutes of waiting, Periton Tweed wobbled up to the lectern, wearing the blue robes and blue pointed hat that the guild head wore, and raised his wand to get everyones attention. "Everyone please quiet down now!" His voice was wobbly, like one who did not have previous experience with public speaking. It was also slightly high. "I would like to thank you all for coming here to celebrate Gralice's life and times," he licked his lips and looked down at the parchment laid out on the lectern. "Gralice was a strong leader, and one that always knew what to do in difficult situations. I am very lucky to have known the man." His speech droned on for some while about Gralice and his life, but it is not necessarily doing much good here. After finishing the speech the Guildsmen, who had taken up a whole front pew, stood up and walked over to the casket. "Now," said Periton, "We will begin the funeral march." The Guildsmen lifted up the casket, three on each side, and the remaining three behind the casket in a line. The Guildsmen drew their wands, and began to make it levitate, floating it down the row between the pews. They stood on either side of it holding it up. As the casket passed each row, the people of the row flowed in behind style="box-sizing: border-box;" /The funeral procession wound through the streets of Stathford to the cemetery. Some wept, some acted calm, and others looked dazed and confused. The whole village was there. We reached the hedges green hedges that surrounded the cemetery. Above the hedges we could see the tops of several mausolea, and a large statue of a woman holding two braziers with an eternal flame burning in style="box-sizing: border-box;" /We came to the gate of the cemetery. The front gate jutted out from the large hedges that encircled it. As we approached, the gate swung open and granted us access into the cemetery. The cemetery was well cared for. Graves were laid out neatly in rows, and mausolea were free from moss and weathering. While there was no designated foot path, there was a large space between sections of graves that gave walking room. The procession moved to the back of cemetery, passing rows of graves of the long since dead. We stopped at the largest mausoleum in the cemetery. It was made of red tinted stone. Over the archway into the mausoleum, the words "Stathford" were chiseled in. His two siblings, who had died many years ago, were also kept here. The procession stopped at the iron, barred door. One of the Guildsmen who was not supporting the casket went over to the door and waved his wand across it. The door slid open. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / "Before we lay him to rest for the final time, I would like to say a few more words," Periton spoke up. "Gralice, you are going into your final resting place on this Earth. But, this is not your final resting place for good. For death is another life entirely. Gralice, we will not forget who you are and what you did to this village. And for those who are grieving, do not be sad, be happy that he lived. He will always be a part of this town, no matter what." He patted the casket, and the Guildsmen moved it into the mausoleum. There were four shelves inside. Two were occupied by black caskets. Gralice's casket was put on the shelf below one of the black caskets. The Guildsmen stepped back out of the mausoleum, and the door sealed shut. Sealing Gralice's body off from the world forever. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / "Now, that is all ladies and gentlemen, let us return home, and remember this great man's legacy," Periton waved everyone out, and the crowd began leaving the cemetery, and people went their separate style="box-sizing: border-box;" /The village was much less alive after the funeral for several days. Though we recovered. After several days, life was back to normal. I ran around with Ardon, my father returned to work, and my mother took on her normal duties. Nothing much of note happened till I turned eleven years old. That was when I received my Hogwarts acceptance letter. It slid in through the window one day, via owl. When the white scroll tied up with red ribbon and the Hogwarts seal on it landed on the floor, my eyes widened. I had been waiting for this day all my life. My mother saw it land, she was washing clothes, and smiled as I ran over to it. I untied the ribbon and seal from the scroll, and rolled it out on the table. It read:br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"Dear Mr. Tiberfoot,br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / You have been accepted into Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed in this letter is a list of supplies you will style="box-sizing: border-box;" /- Phyllida Sporebr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Headmistress of Hogwarts"br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /In those days there was no Diagon Alley. One had to go to shops that were scattered all over. Getting school supplies was a rather tedious task. The list was rolled up in a smaller scroll inside the bigger one. My list was as follows:br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"Three Sets of Plain Work Robes (Black)br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /One Plain Pointed Hat (Black) for day wearbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /One Pair of Protective Gloves (dragon hide or similar)br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /One Winter Cloak (Black, silver fastenings)br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Booksbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Spells of the First Years by Bourse Gagglier br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Annals of Magic by Ravier style="box-sizing: border-box;" /A Beginning Guide to Magical Theory by Rupert Marlockbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Transfiguration: An introduction by Reagus Valiantbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Sporebr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Potions of the Wizarding World by Matthias Quinickbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /A Look at the Many Species of Creatures in the World by Equinn Leadusbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /A Beginners Guide to Defense Against the Dark Arts by Elizabeth Dalwartbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Other Equipmentbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /1 Wandbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /1 Cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /1 set of glass or crystal phialsbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /1 telescopebr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /1 set of brass scalesbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Students may also bring an Owl, a Cat, a Rabbit, or a style="box-sizing: border-box;" /PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS. STUDENTS WILL ALSO HAVE AN OPTION TO RETURN FOR THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAY FOR THE FIRST TIME"br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / I handed the scrolls to my mother, and she read over carefully. "Ah, so you will be here for the Stathford feast! Excellent to hear. Though it does seem as if Spore has softened up a bit. When I was a lass she would have never allowed such a thing to happen at her school."br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /When my father came home I showed him my scroll. He was overjoyed that I received it, and told me that we would head to Arthur's Borough tomorrow to buy my supplies. He said he would tell the owner of the mill, Mylen Brandybuck, that he would be out tomorrow, as he was taking me shopping. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"We will get up early tomorrow," he added before heading out the door to talk to style="box-sizing: border-box;" /My father returned rather quickly. At around eight, the three of us took our seats by the fire. It's embers warming our style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"Mother," I began, "who was head before Headmistress Spore?"br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /My mother sat back in her chair, and placed her hands in her lap. "Well, when I was there, Phyllida Spore had just started her first year. Before that, it was a lady named Heliotrope Wilkins. My sister never liked her. 'Course she only had her one year. Heliotrope was a very intellectual woman, and she was also very wise. But from what I was told she was very strict, and often got lost in her rules, and would make rules up on the spot. Though this could easily be an over exaggeration on my sister's part."br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"What happened to her," I style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"Oh," she giggled slightly. "Well, at the end of my sister's first year, Wilkins thought it would be a good idea to show the younger students an apparating trick. They had not really seen it anywhere before. So, on the last day, after she gave her end of the year speech, she said 'I am now going to demonstrate apparation!' The plan was to apparate from one side of the Great Hall to the other. So, as she was about to do it, a student burped, and she lost her focus. The next thing she knew her head was at the other end of the great hall, but her body had failed to apparate with her. That is what we call a fatal splinch. Her head ended up in the lap of a first year girl. From what my sister recollected to me, the girl screamed, and then fainted, and the whole Great Hall went into a panic." My mother was audibly laughing at this. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"I remember hearing about that too, it really is unfortunate," my father had chimed in. "My elder brother graduated that year, told me all about it." br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"Wow! That sounds exciting," I nearly style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"I think you are a little too excited for school Istaborn," my mother said. "You should get to sleep, you have an early day tomorrow."br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"Good idea Belinda, go on to bed Istaborn," my father said. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"Alright, night!" I ran off to bed. My parents remained by the style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"Are you worried about him," my mother said. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"No, he is an intelligent lad as is, not to mention he is very excited for school. I think he will be fine. In fact, he will love it," my father replied, staring into the style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"I hope you are right."br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /My father woke me early in the morning, around 5 o'clock. "Wake up Istaborn, we have a long treck ahead of us, breakfast is on the table." Hearing him say this, I wasted no time and sprang out of bed to get ready. After getting dressed, I went to the table and began to eat. My father was already seated and was munching away on a piece of bread with an egg on it. My mother was still asleep. The house was dimly lit,  
and only two candles were burning. I finished my ham, eggs, and water, and we got ready to style="box-sizing: border-box;" /My father brought some water, his wand, a large bag for supplies, a money pouch, and a walking stick for the journey. He wore his grey traveling cloak with a hood in case it rained. I also wore a smaller, red travelling cloak with a hood. As we stepped outside the house, the cool morning air nipped at our faces. The sun had barely started to appear behind the trees, and most of the sky was still dark, or a very light orange color. The town was just beginning to wake up. Two or three people were out in the streets already, and some of the shop keepers had begun their daily chores. My father and I started towards the main road through town. At the time we left, we would be able to get there by mid afternoon. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / We started off on the main path and followed it out of town, past the quidditch field, and the cemetery. We headed over the hill of the valley, and followed the path through the forest. I soaked up the nature that was around me, and felt calmness, and peace. After a good while of walking through the forest, we stopped at a tree to get a drink. By this time the sun was fully visible now. Judging by it's height, it was around 10. We continued on the path, occasionally passing other travelers going in the opposite direction. Around noon we reached a green meadow, the trees had become sparse, and we were now out in the open. An hour later the town of Arthur's Borough came into view. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / There was a small, wooden wall around the entire village. We entered the town through an open gate. As we entered, the smell of cooking meat hit my nose. Arthur's Borough was a bustling town. The streets were lined with shops, the marketplace was packed, it was very much alive. My father led me down one of the roads passed shops such as "Bailey's Herbal Remedies", "Daddelmen's Magical Treats" and "Ludwig's Fine Crafted Cauldrons". These shops were a new site to me, and they gave me a warm, enchanted feeling. Stathford never had such colorful shops. These shops had window displays with cauldrons and books on display, signs reading "Sale on Ghoul's Tongue!" And a man in a blue and red striped tunic and pants with a pink pointed hat passing out free samples of "Erbert's Magical Licorice, guaranteed to make you float". All of this was a lot for my young mind to take in, and I gaped at everything I saw, while my father steered me into the bookstore. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /The bookstore was, like the other buildings, colorful and festive. It was a white house, with wood planks built around doors and windows to support it. Each floor hung out a little bit more than the first. Above the door was a large overhanging sign that jutted out over the road for passerbys to see it. The sign was shaped and painted like a stack of three books, and on the spine of the middle one, the words "Reagus Book Shop: Books for Magic Folk, est. 1256" were written in gold. The door to the shop was already open, and we walked in. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / The shop smelled of musty, old books, and a slight smell of clay. It was crammed with bookshelves on all sides, with only a little room to walk. The bookshelves that I could see (there were more rows behind them) were crammed to the brim with clay tablets, scrolls, and leather bound books. On the spines of these books were titles such as "My Very Own Big Red Book Of Plagues", "A History of the Wuzzlesnout", and "Hocus Pocus, Yeetus Yoteus". At the back of the store, in between the two sections of bookshelves on either side, there was a desk, this desk could be seen as you walked in, as the middle of the shop was cleared of shelves, and had plenty of walking room. The man that sat behind it was a balding man with scarlet robes and a cone hat to match. He had white hair, and big, bushy, white eyebrows. He wore his years of work on his face. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / As we approached he looked up from whatever he was doing and said "Oh hello there! How may I assist?"br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / My father began "We would like to buy..."br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / "No don't tell me! You are buying books for your son for Hogwarts!"br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / "Yes, that's it actually. Your observent," my father said style="box-sizing: border-box;" / "Not particularly. Your the twelfth group to come here today asking for books." He went to a shelf behind his desk and began gathering books. "Once you see it enough you catch on! Had a group of eight children come in today with their mother, all needing books for school. Awful, 'bout cleared out my stock!" He returned to the table with a stack of books and gave them to my style="box-sizing: border-box;" / "How much," my father asked. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / "Five galleons." The man was now looking at something on his desk, and not paying attention to style="box-sizing: border-box;" / My father pulled out the respective coins from his coin pouch and handed them to the man, who put them aside without even looking at style="box-sizing: border-box;" / "Thank you," he said uninterestedly. He shoved the books across the desk towards my father, who put them in the bag he brought for my supplies. My father motioned for us to leave. As we headed back onto the street I asked "Where to next?"br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / "Rowan Clothing Company. There we will get your robes and hat."br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / We went several shops down to a stone building with a window display of robes, and an assortment of hats. Several children my age were standing outside wearing new, black robes. We walked in the shop. It was very bright. In it was an old woman. Her grey hair was pulled up in a bun, minus two strands which hung down on opposite sides of her face. She had a pair of circle spectacles perched on her rather long nose. She was attending to another child, who had blonde, curly hair. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / "Just another minute deary, and I will be right with you to take your measurements!"br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / The lady worked fast, and before I knew it, we were out on the streets with three pairs of robes and a pointed hat, some gloves, and a winter cloak. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / After buying a cauldron from Ludwig's Fine Crafted Cauldrons, getting some phials and brass scales from Winston Alchemy, and a telescope from Astronomical Adventures, the only thing left to get in Arthur's Borough was an style="box-sizing: border-box;" / We headed to a small shop wedged between two other shops. Outside was a sign that read "Curlig's Animal Shop". As we walked in, the odor of animal hit my nostrils. The ground of the shop was covered in wood chips and straw. Hanging from the ceiling were cages with owls hooting away, on the floor cats roamed around, and rabbits hopped in their cages. The shop was only reliant on the natural light of the sun, as no candles were lit. The wizard who was running the shop was asleep at his desk. He wore a green tunic, and was bald on the top of his head, but had white hair around the style="box-sizing: border-box;" / As we walked in he woke suddenly. "O-oh! H-how may I assist you today?" br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / "I would like to purchase an owl," I said frankly. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / "Well, look up there," he pointed at the cages on the wall. "I am sure you will find one you like." There were all sorts of owls on the ceiling. There was an Eagle owl, Owls with snowy white coats, and several barn owls. A brown barn owl looked down and hooted at me happily, so I pointed it out to my style="box-sizing: border-box;" / "Is that the one you want," he asked. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / "Yes."br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / The man looked up from the desk. "Have you picked out an owl?" br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / "Yes he has," my father spoke for me. He reached up and pulled the owl from off the hanger on the ceiling, and set it on the desk. The man squinted at the owl, and then said "6 Galleons please." My father handed him the respective money. We took the owl and left. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / By this time the sun was beginning to get lower in the sky, and there was no way to get back home before dark. My father took me to the local inn called The Three Broomsticks. There we bought a room from the inn keeper, and opted to stay in Arthur's Borough for the style="box-sizing: border-box;" / As we went into our room, the candles immediately lit themselves, revealing two beds against the wall closest to us, and a window on the opposite wall. Next to the window was a small table and two chairs. In between the beds was a night stand. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / "Istaborn, send a letter to your mother, tell her we will not be home tonight, send your owl," He said reaching into his pocket and pulling out some parchment. "Oh, by the way, what is it's name?"br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / "Oh! I think I will call him Remus."br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / "That's a good name, Remus. Alright, once you do that we will go down stairs for some supper, and if you are good I will take you to that candy shop!"br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / "Wow! Really! Alright!" I set to work writing the letter. When I was done, I opened the window, attached it to Remus, and sent him off telling him to "take this to my mother in Stathford!"br style="box-sizing:  
border-box;" /We would travel to Ollivander's tomorrow, which was a bit less than half a day's walk away. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / After eating supper, and buying multiple sweets at the sweet shop, my father and I both fell into a deep sleep. I dreamed of the things to come tomorrow./p 


End file.
